The day began with a quick and somewhat fresh start, even though there was nothing fresh about any of the scavengers Marvis held company with. Brad was usually awake before Marv, this felt comforting even though at most times he was frightened of this strange man. Brad has been with Marvis for a few months, he has always been on the hilt-side of him. Brad's handling of knives unnerved Marvis but he knew not to judge someone by things like the exterior. That is not to say that Brad's ability and comfort in carving a human turkey doesn't make some statement about him, it's just not the only thing. And Marvis was usually asked to wake the girl. They were closer together just by their youthful hope and cheer. Brad claimed that they'd grow out of it. Marvis nudged Bindi with his foot, his toe poked through the open mouth at the front of his worn Chucks. The other shoe was worn through the tired soul, the rubber was a thin torn piece that let Marv feel the cold floor.
“Hey Bindi, it's time to get up.” His stomach growled painfully, it has been a day and a half since his last meal. The others seemed to have found a way to satisfy themselves. He didn't want to wake her, she was smiling. He really didn't want to wake her up to have her reminded of the cold and seemingly empty world. He didn't want her to be reminded of her hunger. “Hey, let's get some food Bindi, breakfast?” He nudged her again.
“Nnhmm, hum? Oh, great morning!” She'd always say great morning instead of good morning, that way if it isn't at least great it can still be good, she told Marvis that after the first Great Morning he'd heard from her. They bundled up their packs and goods, checked their weapons, and headed out of the old sports Colosseum and into the city. The morning was dull gray with a hazy mist in the air. Most of the looming giants of concrete stabbed upward through the mist. Some just leaned on each other and a few were laying down in the streets, having given up on their world. But the most terrifying was the USBAN building, a solid white structure that watched over the whole city, it was one of the few that was still a lit up and would glow at night. The sleepless monster that let everyone in the whole county know, it is watching. They are watching.
The market was just coming to life, as the four of them crossed the metal bridge into the Third Ward. The first few stands in the market were empty, and there was a man lifting large bottles filled with varying colored liquids. And he was placing this bottles on a white tablecloth that covered the front of a dead car, obviously so with the fact that it was mostly just a frame. They walked a few blocks and found the water traders, Bindi and Brad started their bargaining for chips, or water tokens as most travelers called them. Roland turned to all of them and said. “Well, I have to go see a man about a …” he mumbled and wandered off into the marketplace.
It took a few hours and asking all the right questions, and some of the wrong, to get a stack of water tokens. It was there at last that Marvis's stomach shook with fear and pain for the last time, that day. It was an old rickety food stand. Some sort of soup was boiling in a pot behind this middle-aged woman. The table was stacked with bowls and spoons and a small sheet of paper. Some words were scribbled on it, none that Marvis knew. The woman was thanking Brad over and over again as she ladled bowls of her hot and flavored water. Brad had just arranged some food and tokens from her for the bottles of water that they found in the building they were in for the past few days. Anna, the soup lady, went on explaining to Brad, who seemed pleased enough with his transaction and not needing a further explanation.
“You see, little Jimmy, my boy,” she turned and looked back and forth, “Jimmy? Jimmy?!” She shouted again. A little snot-nosed, literally, dirty-haired boy popped out of an empty barrel some couple yards from her stand. He had dark eyes, and black hair. A stout little form, like a little Irish kid. He hopped out of the steel can, nearly spiraling into a pile in the mud and dirt. He couldn't have been more that three-feet tall and probably eight years old. Marvis couldn't tell the age of the boy but he could tell the mischief in his eyes. Mischief born of boredom. Marvis knew this very familiarly.
“This little rascal,” she rubbed his hair in her palm, “got us in some trouble, he tried to take some water from the Water Traders, and now they won't trade any with me. Time'll heal this, I hope, but that's why I'm short on water, not on tokens, and ya need water for soup.” She rambled on and Jimmy got bored as well, Marvis stopped paying attention. Bindi stared with great intent on the ramblings of the motherly woman, it was either as if she was intent on learning from her, or staring right past her. Brad gulped down two full bowls of the soup, most of it didn't hit his taste buds.
“Hey.” Marvis whispered around the back of the stand. He reached into his bag and pulled out a bowl, a small clay bowl. And with his other hand he reached out and opened his palm to the boy. “Wanna play a game?” His hopes were that the boy could be taught that the game was more important the the winning or the losing, but most of all that the boy would be distracted with this rather than having idle hands.
“Hey Bindi, it's time to get up.” His stomach growled painfully, it has been a day and a half since his last meal. The others seemed to have found a way to satisfy themselves. He didn't want to wake her, she was smiling. He really didn't want to wake her up to have her reminded of the cold and seemingly empty world. He didn't want her to be reminded of her hunger. “Hey, let's get some food Bindi, breakfast?” He nudged her again.
“Nnhmm, hum? Oh, great morning!” She'd always say great morning instead of good morning, that way if it isn't at least great it can still be good, she told Marvis that after the first Great Morning he'd heard from her. They bundled up their packs and goods, checked their weapons, and headed out of the old sports Colosseum and into the city. The morning was dull gray with a hazy mist in the air. Most of the looming giants of concrete stabbed upward through the mist. Some just leaned on each other and a few were laying down in the streets, having given up on their world. But the most terrifying was the USBAN building, a solid white structure that watched over the whole city, it was one of the few that was still a lit up and would glow at night. The sleepless monster that let everyone in the whole county know, it is watching. They are watching.
The market was just coming to life, as the four of them crossed the metal bridge into the Third Ward. The first few stands in the market were empty, and there was a man lifting large bottles filled with varying colored liquids. And he was placing this bottles on a white tablecloth that covered the front of a dead car, obviously so with the fact that it was mostly just a frame. They walked a few blocks and found the water traders, Bindi and Brad started their bargaining for chips, or water tokens as most travelers called them. Roland turned to all of them and said. “Well, I have to go see a man about a …” he mumbled and wandered off into the marketplace.
It took a few hours and asking all the right questions, and some of the wrong, to get a stack of water tokens. It was there at last that Marvis's stomach shook with fear and pain for the last time, that day. It was an old rickety food stand. Some sort of soup was boiling in a pot behind this middle-aged woman. The table was stacked with bowls and spoons and a small sheet of paper. Some words were scribbled on it, none that Marvis knew. The woman was thanking Brad over and over again as she ladled bowls of her hot and flavored water. Brad had just arranged some food and tokens from her for the bottles of water that they found in the building they were in for the past few days. Anna, the soup lady, went on explaining to Brad, who seemed pleased enough with his transaction and not needing a further explanation.
“You see, little Jimmy, my boy,” she turned and looked back and forth, “Jimmy? Jimmy?!” She shouted again. A little snot-nosed, literally, dirty-haired boy popped out of an empty barrel some couple yards from her stand. He had dark eyes, and black hair. A stout little form, like a little Irish kid. He hopped out of the steel can, nearly spiraling into a pile in the mud and dirt. He couldn't have been more that three-feet tall and probably eight years old. Marvis couldn't tell the age of the boy but he could tell the mischief in his eyes. Mischief born of boredom. Marvis knew this very familiarly.
“This little rascal,” she rubbed his hair in her palm, “got us in some trouble, he tried to take some water from the Water Traders, and now they won't trade any with me. Time'll heal this, I hope, but that's why I'm short on water, not on tokens, and ya need water for soup.” She rambled on and Jimmy got bored as well, Marvis stopped paying attention. Bindi stared with great intent on the ramblings of the motherly woman, it was either as if she was intent on learning from her, or staring right past her. Brad gulped down two full bowls of the soup, most of it didn't hit his taste buds.
“Hey.” Marvis whispered around the back of the stand. He reached into his bag and pulled out a bowl, a small clay bowl. And with his other hand he reached out and opened his palm to the boy. “Wanna play a game?” His hopes were that the boy could be taught that the game was more important the the winning or the losing, but most of all that the boy would be distracted with this rather than having idle hands.